Walking away
by Ruler of the Fake Empire
Summary: Sometimes an event comes along and it starts something. Some time it just happens and your off on an adventure. When you're being threatened by a man with a gun it kind of helps if you have a plan to just walk away. Normal AU.


The man with the gun was yelling, almost too loud for his words to have spaces between them. Shot's were fired, perhaps to make a point, though all of them missed anything but the walls. His partner, who also had an, albeit, smaller gun, was prowling, but not shooting. Not knowing what else to do or perhaps just on instinct he grabbed the man beside him and tugged them both down behind a desk in what felt like the best movement he could of made. He didn't know much about guns. He knew they were loud and they looked cool in action movies and they hurt when they were shot from, but other than that. Nothing. He could, program a computer to the nines, but guns? He hadn't the faintest clue.

He didn't quite know for certain what was going on, but he could take a guess. Generally when people were in banks, yelling and firing guns it usually had something to do with all the money in the vault. Or perhaps it was a hostage situation. Lovely. He heard the man he had grabbed grunt and shift as they crouched behind the desk. He was dressed in waist coat, shirt and tie, his long coat dropped where he had been standing just moments before. His eyes were grey and narrow with intelligence.

"Shit" the man muttered. That did seem appropriate at this point. Harry himself was screaming obscenities in his head, but he figured that yelling probably wasn't going to enhance the probability of his survival.

"Anyone here who would like to play the hero, please stand up so we can shoot you in the head!" Anyone? Nobody? Good" The first man with the first gun was storming about, continuing to bark out orders to the staff of the bank, something about money and something to eat. Harry half hoped that the man with the gun was planning on sharing, but then, probably not. He heard the man beside him sigh deeply as if this was just a trivial thing or as though he was fretting about being late. He lent his back on the panelled part of the desk and let his legs splayed out in front of him. He looked annoyingly casual and Harry had to restrain himself from snapping at him. He probably would of lectured him about appropriate behaviour in life threatening situations, but he resisted. That was probably also inappropriate behaviour.

So he simply sat beside the man and decided to wait until this all blew over. It was at this point that he really wanted some chilly cheese fries and a really good coffee. He was so going to Starbucks after this. The man beside him calmly knitted his fingers together and rested them in his lap, head tilted back, eyes half open. He obviously thought that was a tiresome experience to say the least.

"Gentlemen, are you comfortable? Would you like some tea with your bank robbery?" Two pairs of eyes darted upwards, towards the sound of the voices, one pair emerald and sparkling, the other as grey as fairy dust. The man beside him's expression became deadly serious.

"I would actually" his voice was completely earnest. Like what he honestly thought wasn't smartass, but he was perfectly fine with it coming across that way. The man with the gun sneered at him and Harry seriously considered just shooting the man himself and getting it over with. But he didn't, something told him grabbing the man's gun would end up with him more dead than the man beside him.

The man crouched down, his face looming into the grey eyed man's face. He pressed the gun to just under the man's jaw, a fatal position should it of gone off. The man with the grey eyes looked straight into the other man's eyes, never faltering in his expression. Completely calm.

"You little bitch. You dare speaking to me like that?" the man with the gun spat. From across the room, Harry could see the other patrons of the bank staring at them fearfully, already covering the eyes of their children with there hands so they wouldn't be scarred for life with the sight of a man being shot. Harry probably would of done the same thing to himself had he not of been completely entranced with the spectacle going on before him. The man beside him didn't answer the man's rhetorical question. He only stared on, expressionless and grave. The man with the gun sneered at them and took the gun away from the grey eyed man's jaw. The man with the gun stood up, apparently done with be disrespected, though he seemed to change his mind halfway up. He swung his fist, hitting the grey eyed man across the cheek. His ring caught on a high cheekbone, tearing the skin and smearing his hand with scarlet blood. He wiped the crimson liquid back onto the dress shirt of the grey man.

"Ow" the grey eyed man said quietly, tenderly touching his bleeding cheekbone. It would probably need stitches.

"Don't speak to me again, you little shit" the man with the gun hissed violently before stomping off, his big, dumb combat boots marking the marble floor with mud. He gently prodded at the cut, paying no mind to the man with the gun and his little yelling match with a CCTV camera in the corner. Harry offered him a handkerchief he had stuffed in his pocket that morning because he didn't want to have to put back to where it was actually meant to be. That reminded him that he was going to be very, very late for work. Hopefully being in a bank robbery meant you could have a day off. He would like that very much.

"Thanks" the man with the grey eyes muttered as he took the handkerchief from the man beside him and dabbed it to his cheek, trying to stop the bleeding.

"I'm Harry, by the way" He said quietly, holding out his hand. Harry didn't really think that introducing himself was appropriate behaviour for a life threatening situation, but he was willing to walk past the rules inside his own head just this once. Grey eyes slid towards him, they scraped up and down his slumped form as if seeing him for the first time. The man with the grey eyes took his hand.

"Draco Malfoy" His grip with strong and commanding, his eyes steely. He honestly looked offended at the fact that he had been hit. Like being hit was so below him.

"That was pretty stupid of you" Harry remarked, with a frown. He figured they were pretty free to talk, considering that the two assailants were currently shouting at one another in a language Harry didn't know.

He heard Mister Malfoy snort.

"Stupid?" He snorted again before being out the hand not pressing the hanker held to his cheek. Between two fingers he held a thin, leather wallet. "We have identification" Harry's jaw slacked.

"You stole his wallet" he said slowly.

"I did" his voice was calm and low. His fingers fumbled with the wallet trying to open it and keep it steady at the same time with only one hand. Harry sighed deeply and pushed his hand onto the handkerchief to keep it there. Draco slid him a sideways glance, but lowered his hand nonetheless and began to sift through the wallet. Harry dabbed quietly onto the cut, noting with some dissatisfaction that he was never going to be able to use it ever again. He had heard of the Malfoys before. They were a pretty famous. They owned hospitals all around he place; well at least that almost guaranteed that the man with the grey eyes was a doctor. He would probably come in handy if one of those guns were to go off.

"Well, this is shit" Draco remarked, unhelpfully.

"What is it? What did you find?" Harry stared at him, ready to be told that this wasn't just a robbery it was also a terrorist action, also he was going to die, also the world was ending, also everything just sucked. The grey eyed man frowned at him. God, even his frown was freaking beautiful.

"No, just this situation. It sucks"

"Yeah, yeah it does. They're terrible robbers though. That's a plus" He only heard Draco sigh in response. It was going to be a long, long day. "I'm going to go have so much coffee after this" Harry mused, mostly to himself. Floating Starbucks cups sauntered through his mind, thinking over all things he was going to do. He was going to off work for a month long holiday the next day. His boss had said something about reducing stress levels and all that crap. He didn't have the faintest clue what he was going to do one this holiday of his, but he was currently picturing himself driving off into the sunset with lots of drive trough food.

"And not the bad kind either. Nice coffee. Good coffee" the grey eyed man beside him continued. Both of them staring at the celling, in dazed fascination.

"And fast food. Lots of fast food. Burgers and chips and beer"

"And nobody telling you that you'll get a tummy ache if you eat to much. Only self-learned lessons"

"And nobody around at all really. Just you, the food and, I don't know… a tropical island"

"I always figured that I'd be enjoying my life by this point" His words were musing and carefree, like they had both forgotten they were in a bank robbery.

"And you not?" his voice was low and inquiring. He couldn't help, but feel curious. If anything this man looked like he had his life together. He was well dressed, clean, handsome, perfect in every other way as well. He bordered on ridiculous. Sure, his personality could of used a little fine tuning, but even his dry, scathing humour was charming in it's own way. Harry found himself smiling at the thought.

"I am, I guess. I'm just…" he trailed off searching for the right word. "Bored. I'm bored" Harry nodded understandingly.

"Yeah, I know the feeling, it makes you just want to drive somewhere"

"Yeah, it dos-" He was cut off by a loud yelling and the sound of doors being banged down. A woman screamed from behind them and they both moved to peer over the desk, which probably wasn't wise, considering shots were being fired. "Oh" said the man. "I do believe that day just got worse. Amazing" Police were barging through the door, shouting in loud broad voice and waving guns about in a vaguely threatening manner. They were obviously taking this as a hostage situation, which it wasn't, which largely meant that they were fine with a little collateral damage. They probably were also going to want statements and all that. Oh god.

It took a good five hours for them to finally to be released. Allowed to go home at last. Not that home was where either of them particularly wanted to be. They stood outside the police station. Draco with his hands in his pockets, looking disgruntled and sneering at the world. Harry with his eyes cast skywards from behind his glasses, looking oddly mystified, as if he was at a loss for words.

"So…" He began as they stared out onto the road. "I just got off work for a month and if you promise you're not a serial killer so can I. You want to drive until we reach the ocean?" He might not of been looking for the company of the human race, but the way he saw it the grey eyed man didn't count. Plus, sometimes the human company of the people you have tinsy tiny crushes on were okay even when solitude is wanted.

Draco turned to him, his surprise concealed.

"Yes, actually, I would"

That night they drove off in Harry's beat up jeep, Draco snoring lightly and leaning on Harry's arm.

Only a week later they shared their first kiss.

A month later they hadn't returned to their lives.

Six months later they still hadn't retuned.

A year later they had a house and were sending letters to their friends.

Two years later they got married.

Six months after that a small girl wandered into their lives.

Sixty years later they got old, because that, my friends, is what people do.

They get old.


End file.
